


made up of light and shade

by freefall



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Exy, Author!Andrew, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freefall/pseuds/freefall
Summary: It was getting harder to breathe. Neil wasn’t sure if that was because of the frigid air freezing his breath in his lungs or because of the knife wound in his side.Snowed In AU.





	made up of light and shade

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I know this takes place in the winter and it’s now June, but in my defense, I started writing this last November.
> 
> Title from Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstory.
> 
> Full disclosure: I’ve never read Anna Karenina. I think I lifted the idea of them reading it from another AFTG fic, so full credit to that author. Unfortunately, I can’t remember which fic it was!

Neil staggered forward through the driving snow.  He was wet up to his thighs, could barely see through the flurries of white, and was so, so cold he could feel it in his bones. There was a colder patch on his side where his blood was freezing against his skin. He never should have come north. He never should have left the highway for the woods, even if Lola and Jackson were right on his tail.

He couldn’t feel his feet or his hands anymore, and he knew just enough about winter survival to know that that was a very bad sign. If he didn’t find shelter soon, then escaping his father’s people wouldn’t be an issue any longer.

_At least it’d be hard to chop up a frozen corpse,_ Neil thought with grim humor.

He had lost track of the highway a while ago and the only thing he could see around him were frozen, snow-covered trees in every direction. There were worse places to die. Still, though, it was embarrassing for someone who had survived the horrors he had to be taken out by winter weather.

It was getting harder to breathe. Neil wasn’t sure if that was because of the frigid air freezing his breath in his lungs or because of the knife wound in his side. His foot hit a patch of ice and he skidded down to his knees. He sucked in a deep, agonizing breath. He needed to get up. He knew he needed to get up.

Neil closed his eyes, just briefly, to gather his strength. He just needed a little rest.

“Hey. Hey, you!”

Neil tried to rise but slipped back down to his hands and knees. He could just barely see the dark, blurry figure coming toward him through the snow.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Neil blinked slowly, lashes iced over. He felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

“Um—” he started. If this was one of his father’s men—

“Hey, look at me. Open your eyes, damn it.”

Somehow, Neil didn’t remember how, he was on the ground now, looking up. Above him was a blond man with a frown and fierce eyes, framed by the bright white light of the falling snow. The man grabbed him, probably to try to lift him up, Neil felt agonizing pain sear through him, and that was the last thing he remembered.

 

* * *

 

Neil woke up to a heavy weight pinning him down. He thrashed weakly for a moment, breath short with panic, before he realized that the weight was merely several thick, downy comforters. He was in a bed, unrestrained. And so, so warm. He savored the warmth for a single, indulgent moment, before he pushed himself up to look at the situation, ignoring the ache in his side.

He was in a bed in the corner of what looked like a one room cabin.  It was simple with just a table and a couch and a little kitchenette in another corner. It was mostly bare of decorations, but between the roaring fire and the books scattered around the place, it had the air of somewhere cozy and lived in.

The blond man who rescued him was in a chair across the room, arms crossed and seemingly indifferent to Neil’s panic. One hand was playing with a knife, and Neil tensed. If he was one of his father’s people, though, why wasn’t Neil tied up? Was this a trick?

“You’re an idiot,” the man said abruptly.

Neil blinked. “… Excuse me?”

“You’re. An. Idiot.”

“Why is that?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” The man’s expression was as impassive as ever, but he definitely gave off the vibe that he was impatient. “Could it be the fact that you were wandering around the woods in the middle of the winter without any proper gear or apparently a sense of direction? Or the fact that you were doing it with a gaping hole in your side?”

Neil’s eyes widened and his hand flew to his left side. He realized that he was wearing a plain black t-shirt that wasn’t his, and, underneath, his wound was carefully bandaged. It still hurt, but it was only a dull ache.

“Who are you?” Neil asked, jutting out his chin. If this was a trick by his father, he wanted to know now.

The man raised his eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? A stranger, wandering around my backyard clearly running from something and with a knife wound. Shouldn’t I be worried?”

“Yeah, clearly I’m such a danger to you. What with the passing out and the wound and your knives, I’m definitely the dangerous one here,” Neil spat.

Their stare-off was broken by a orangish tabby cat jumping up on the bed by Neil. He flinched, despite himself, but the cat didn’t seem bothered. It walked across Neil’s lap to the other side and curled into a ball next to him. “Oh,” Neil said softly. He reached out and gently stroked his fingers over the cat’s back. He could see another cat lying on the nearby ground in a patch of sun.

He looked up to find the man staring at him. He looked like he was trying to figure Neil out, just by looking at him hard enough. Neil wanted to laugh a little bit. He had the strange urge to tell the stranger that plenty had tried that before and failed.

“What’s his name?” Neil asked.

“King Fluffkins.”

Neil blinked. “Um. Really?”

The man stared blankly. “My cousin named him.”

Neil smiled. “Cute. What’s the other’s name?”

“Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.”

Neil laughed. “Your cousin named that one, too, I gather.”

“What’s your name?”

Neil flinched, and the man narrowed his eyes.

“I told you names, now you tell me one. Or I’ll kick you out.”

“You went through a lot of work for someone just to kick them out into the snow,” Neil said, but at the man’s glare, he relented. “Fine. You can call me Neil. Neil Josten.”

From the man’s narrowed eyes, he clearly caught the “you can call me” part, but he didn’t argue. “Andrew Minyard,” he returned shortly. “So, Neil. What were you doing wandering through the forest in a snowstorm alone with a knife wound in your side?”

Neil thought quickly. “I—”

“Don’t even try to lie.”

Neil froze, eyes wide and mouth still open. He shut it and sighed in resignation. It was a little too late for him to talk his way out of this one, anyways. “I’m running from some people,” he said.

“Obviously. Why? Did you kill someone? Run over their dog? Steal from them?”

“The last one. Well, my mom did anyway. But now I have it.”

“Where’s your mother now?”

“Dead.”

Andrew turned this over in his mind silently. “Are you going to steal from me?”

“No! I don’t exactly make a habit of stealing from people. That was … a special circumstance.”

King Fluffkins chose that moment to make a little _mrrrr_ noise and stretch all four paws out, before curling back in. Neil couldn’t help but make a cooing noise. He petted King’s white fluffy exposed tummy very gently before looking up. Andrew was observing him carefully, looking like he was running Neil through some kind of test in his brain. Neil hoped he passed, if only to avoid being kicked out into the snow again. Somehow, he didn’t doubt that Andrew would definitely do that if he pissed him off enough.

“Can you cook?”

“Um. What?”

Andrew looked impatient at having to repeat himself. “Can you cook?”

“Uh, kind of? I’m decent, I guess. Why?”

He jerked his head toward the window, where the snow had not only not stopped, but seemed to be accumulating. Neil couldn’t see anything but white. “We’re in the beginning of a blizzard. It’s supposed to last days. You can stay, as long as you cook. I’m getting tired of my own cooking.”

Neil shot a wild look at the window. He couldn’t _stay._ Lola and Jackson were right behind him.

“Thanks, but I have to go,” he said, and started to struggle with the blankets.

“It’s too late for that, runner,” Andrew said. “Take a look out the window.”

Neil slowly managed to climb out of the bed and cross the floor to the window. He already felt weak just from that short walk. He looked out the window and his heart sank right to the soles of his bare feet, freezing on the floorboards. He couldn’t see the ground, the horizon, or even the trees that he knew must be nearby. It was just a solid mass of white.

“You’re snowed in,” Andrew said carelessly from behind him. He hadn’t moved at all, and didn’t seem to care about Neil’s crisis. He tossed his knife again in a neat arc and casually caught it in the same hand. “Hope you’re a good cook.”

Neil thought of his father and Lola for one moment and then the short grumpy blond man with the knife he was trapped with the next, and then sagged in defeat. “Fuck.”

“I want pancakes,” Andrew said. “With chocolate chips.”

 

* * *

 

Andrew’s kitchen was small, but it was stocked with all the necessities, as well as a truly extraordinary amount of sweet things.  Neil couldn’t help but make a grimace of distaste as he shuffled through the bags of candy in search of chocolate chips.  “You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” Andrew ignored him.

Neil rolled his eyes into the cupboard. He took out the chocolate chips and started taking out dishes and a mixing spoon.  Andrew just watched him in silence from the kitchen table, chin on his folded hands and almost-gold eyes piercing into Neil’s back.  Neil couldn’t keep from hunching against the stare as he started pouring the mix into the bowl.  Finally, he couldn’t take the silence anymore. 

“Why do you live out here in the middle of the woods all by yourself?”

“Because it’s quiet. Less idiots out here, although somehow one still managed to find me.”

Neil gave him a look. “Very funny. What’s the real reason?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, and his gaze was so intense that Neil felt a shiver go down his spine. “You want the truth?” Andrew said quietly. Dangerously. “You sure you want to play that game, _Neil?_ Because I’ll play if you want to. A truth for a truth.”

Neil knew that the smart thing would be to back down. He should let Andrew keep his secrets, and keep his own. He should leave here when the snow was gone without leaving a trace and without looking back.

But he was never very good at doing the smart thing.

“Yeah, okay. A truth for a truth.”

Neil could swear that under the apathetic exterior Andrew was just barely, slightly, surprised.

“I live out here because I’m writing the book and I like the silence.  And there’s no one out there I’d want to see, anyway,” he added with a vague wave toward the outdoors that Neil took to mean ‘the outside world.’

Neil’s eyebrows raised. He really wanted to ask about the book, but it was Andrew’s turn now. “What’s your question?”

“Who gave you those scars?”

Neil froze, blood rushing in his ears. Of course— Andrew changed his shirt, of course he saw his scars. “My father,” he answered thinly.  It was mostly true. 

Surprisingly, Andrew didn’t say anything to this.  He just nodded slowly, as if he was digesting the information and found it mildly interesting.  Neil thought most people would be more perturbed by the torture-by-family-member thing.  Then again, Andrew hadn’t been fazed by Neil’s gaping wound, either, or the fact that he was being chased by people for theft.  Andrew was clearly not a normal person.  Hell, maybe he was a crazy psychopath and Neil was going to die here.

“Hurry up, moron,” Andrew said.  “I’m hungry.”

 

* * *

 

The next few days were … awkward.  Neil and Andrew circled each other like two cats, only not, because Sir and King were actually pretty friendly with each other.  Andrew clearly didn’t trust him. He had his knives on him at all times, tucked into his black armbands.  Neil didn’t trust Andrew, either, and spent the majority of his time trying to disappear into an out of the way corner of the cabin, not that there really were any in a place this small.

They were still playing their truth game, though.

“What are you writing about?” Neil finally asked, unable to contain his curiosity.  Andrew looked up, annoyed, from his laptop at the desk. 

“Well, nothing right now,” he said.

Neil couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little.  “You know what I mean.”

Andrew was silent for a long moment.  “I’m writing a crime novel.  It’s about a police detective trying to solve the murder of her sister.”

Neil leaned forward in interest, despite himself.  “You like mysteries?”

Andrew shrugged.  “They’re mildly entertaining.  I was a criminal justice major in college.”

“Oh. I didn’t go to college.”

Andrew looked at him, eyes sharp, and Neil winced.  He was getting in the habit of telling too many truths to Andrew. 

“My turn for a question now,” Andrew said.  “Who did your mother steal from?  Your father?”

Neil hesitated, before letting himself nod jerkily.  He let out a shaky breath.  “Yeah.  She stole about five million dollars.  And me.”

By the way Andrew’s eyes flicked briefly to where his scars were, underneath his shirt, but all he said was, “That’s a lot of money.”

“Gonna put it in one of your books?” Neil challenged.

Andrew shrugged.  “Nah.  Not believable enough.”  Neil stuttered out a laugh in surprise.  Andrew got up from the desk and crossed over to one of the windows.  He cracked it open, despite the snowflakes that blew in, took a cigarette from his back pocket, and lit it up.  Neil could barely smell it from across the room, but just the sight of it made his whole body ache with craving. 

Andrew’s sharp eyes noticed, as they noticed everything.  “You a smoker?”

Neil shook his head.  “No.  I just like the smell.”  Neil’s eyes remained stuck on the burning cigarette in Andrew’s hand.

Andrew untucked one more cigarette from the pack and held it out.  Neil looked from the cigarette, up to Andrew, and then back down at the cigarette.  Andrew let out an impatient noise and shook the cigarette, so Neil crossed the room and took it.  Andrew lit it, and then turned toward the window.  “It’s your turn to ask a question,” he told their reflections in the glass.

“Ummm.” Neil considered the man beside him.  Really, the only thing that he knew about him was that he carried knives on his person, even living alone in the middle of the wilderness.  Still, better save that question for later.  He didn’t actually want to get tossed out on his ass. Neil inhaled the smell of the cigarette smoke. It was a different brand than his mother smoked, but the smell was still comforting.

“Do you have a family?” he asked impulsively.

“Technically,” Andrew answered shortly.

“Come on, you have to give me more than that.”

“I have a cousin.  And a twin brother.”

Neil twisted to look at him in surprise. It was hard to imagine two of Andrew. “A twin?  Wow, you must be really close.”

“We’re not.  We barely know each other.” Andrew snubbed out the cigarette on the windowsill, even though it wasn’t quite finished, and walked away to sit at his desk.  Cautiously, Neil snubbed out his own cigarette and followed.

“Your turn to ask,” Neil said softly.

“I’ll save it.”

Neil could tell by the way Andrew was closed off and turned back toward his computer that he was done with their game for now. He let the silence slowly turn from awkward to comfortable, as the clack of Andrew’s keys filled the room.

 

* * *

 

With only the two of them cooped up in this small space, Neil got bored quickly.

“Andrew,” Neil groaned, lying on the couch, King curled up in a ball on his stomach and staring up at the ceiling.

Andrew didn’t look up from his book in his seat in the lone armchair and just grunted.

“Andrewww.”

“What.”

“What are you doing?”

“Reading, obviously. Are you an idiot?”

“What are you reading?”

Andrew gave out a heavy sigh. “If I read aloud to you, will you shut up?”

Neil turned his head and looked at Andrew. Andrew was giving him an annoyed look over the top of his book.

“No promises, but probably?” Neil gave his best hopeful grin.

“You’re a brat, aren’t you?” Andrew said with a grimace.

“Is that your question?”

“No. I know the answer to that one, already. Just shut up and let me read.”

Andrew did graciously flip back to the beginning of the book, though, Neil noted. He obviously wasn’t as annoyed as he pretended.

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” Andrew began.

Neil wasn’t much of a reader, but it was kind of soothing, hearing about how fucked up people were even in a foreign country hundreds of years ago. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the sound of Andrew’s voice.

 

* * *

 

The two of them fell into a rhythm. Neil cooked, Andrew did the dishes, Neil played with the cats while Andrew worked, Andrew read aloud while Neil listened. And they asked each other questions. Neil wasn’t sure why he was so fascinated by this random stranger, but he was. For some reason, he wanted to know everything about Andrew.

And for some equally mysterious reason, although he knew he couldn’t tell Andrew the whole truth, it felt wrong to lie to him. He felt like Andrew deserved an equal exchange. That’s why, when Andrew asked who was after him, he answered.

“Friends of my father.”

“’Friends’? What kind of friends carry guns? What exactly does your father do for a living?”

Damn, Andrew was smart. Neil couldn’t exactly tell him about his father’s gang, though. It would just put Andrew in danger.

“That doesn’t matter. These are just sickos who like hurting people, that’s all.”

“Do they want you alive, or are they trying to kill you?”

Neil hesitated. “They want me alive. I don’t think they’d cry if they accidentally killed me though.”

Andrew made a thinking noise. He was usually apathetic, but for once his hazel eyes looked keen, almost piercing. Neil quickly tried to distract him with his own question. “Why do you carry knives all the time?”

Andrew sneered. “Your father isn’t the only sicko out there. I learned the hard way that it’s best to be prepared.”

“Did the ‘sicko’ that you’re talking about give you those scars?”

Andrew froze. “How do you know about those?”

“I caught a glimpse under your arm bands when you were doing dishes,” he answered, almost apologetically.

 “That’s another question. If I answer that, you’re going to have to trade me something in return.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to know your eye color.  And hair too, if it’s fake, runaway.”

Neil paled abruptly. “How do you know about that?” He had been so careful, getting up before Andrew and putting his contacts in in the dark.

“I’m a light sleeper.”

Neil closed his eyes. He couldn’t … Still, he just had to tell Andrew. He didn’t have to look at it, or anything. “I have blue eyes. And auburn hair.”

Andrew snorted. “A red head. Figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s obvious you’re trouble.”

Neil made a face. Andrew snorted.

“Don’t distract me. How’d you get those scars?” Neil persisted.

Andrew abruptly lost any slight humor that he had. “I did it myself,” he said curtly.

Neil didn’t know what to say to that.  He had always gotten too many injuries from everybody else to want to do something to himself. It was clear, though, from the way that Andrew’s face shut down and he turned away, that he was done talking.

 

* * *

 

“It’s your turn for a question,” Neil said as he poked disinterestedly at his oatmeal. Andrew had made breakfast this time, but had put so much honey in it that Neil didn’t really want to eat it. He’d much prefer just some fruit, but apparently fruit was hard to come by in a cabin in the middle of the woods in the depths of winter.

“Hmm. What are you afraid of?”

Neil jerked his head up. Andrew looked as expressionless as always, but he was looking straight at Neil instead of eating, so Neil knew he must be interested. Not a lot would keep Andrew away from sweets.

Neil swallowed. “Lola. My father.” His voice got quieter as he went on. “Dying.”

Andrew didn’t react, which was almost comforting. Neil was getting the feeling that Andrew would be steady as a rock in the middle of a hurricane.

“Who’s Lola?” he asked.

“My father’s … friend.” Neil touched his side by his healing stab wound subconsciously, and then realized what he was doing and brought his hand down. Andrew’s piercing eyes didn’t miss a thing, though.

“Is she the one who gave you that scar?”

Neil nodded jerkily.

Andrew made a thinking noise and tapped his spoon once on his bowl, sharply. Then he was apparently finished with that line of questioning, because he ate another spoonful of oatmeal. “Your turn,” Andrew said.

Neil thought for a second. He didn’t want to overstep, after the last question, but apparently Andrew wasn’t worried about getting too personal. And he was really curious. Well, if Andrew didn’t want to answer he could always tell him to fuck off. “Why did you cut yourself?”

Andrew stopped, spoon partway to his mouth, then put the spoon down. He was silent for a long moment. When he finally answered, his voice was as frozen as the landscape outside. “I grew up in the foster system. It was as bad as you would expect. When I was thirteen, I ended up at one house, the Spears. They were actually nice to me. They seemed like they cared. I wanted—it doesn’t matter. I should have known that I don’t get the things that I want. That’s not how the world works.” Andrew’s voice was so bitter, but his expression was just—totally still. Like he wasn’t even there. “They had a son. A real one, not a foster like me. His name was Drake. He was in training for the military, but he came home for the holidays. He liked me. A little too much.”

Neil felt the world tilt and sat down hard on the couch as Andrew’s meaning abruptly became clear. “No.”

“Oh, Neil. All those scars and _this_ is what fazes you?”

Neil shook his head almost involuntarily, mouth open in horror. “Andrew,” he said helplessly. He wanted to say something else, to deny it or to ask for clarification, as if he was misunderstanding—but he knew that was useless.

“He came into my room every night. I grew up in the foster system; this had happened to me before. But this is the first house that I didn’t get out right away. I wanted to stay. They were going to adopt me, you see.” Finally, Andrew’s expression matched his voice as his mouth twisted bitterly.

Neil just sat there. He felt sick to his stomach, but he ignored it. Andrew didn’t need his drama. “What did you do?” he asked lowly.

“I cut myself. I was a stupid kid. I thought it would help. I would have stayed there for who knows how long if we hadn’t learned that I had a twin.

“Aaron realized he had a twin that our dear old mom put up for adoption instead of keeping. He got in touch. Drake realized he had the opportunity for a ‘matched set’ if Aaron visited, and I promptly decided that juvie and some bars between me and everybody else seemed like a great idea.”

“Andrew,” Neil breathed shakily. 

Andrew sneered. “I don’t want your pity, runaway.”

Neil bit his lip, but nodded. If that’s what Andrew wanted, it was the least he could do. “I’m done with breakfast,” he said instead, and started clearing the table.

 

Andrew was standoffish and prickly for a little while after that, but eventually they were back to cooking together, reading together, and sharing secrets like before. Neil told Andrew about his mom and his life on the run. Andrew told Neil about his time living with his cousin and brother and how it all fell apart.

These snowed-in days felt like a dream. A calm oasis in the blistering desert that was Neil’s life. He was warm, and well-fed, and the cats were soft and cuddly, and Andrew—

Andrew.

Neil had never been so interested in someone else before, to the point where his questions were completely inane and would have sounded idiotic to anyone else. But he was genuinely interested in stupid little things like Andrew’s favorite flavor of ice cream. And Andrew was beginning to _know_ Neil, like no one had before in all his series of lives, his series of lies. Not just truths about him like his parents, or his eye color. Andrew was beginning to _know Neil._ To know his likes and dislikes, his sense of humor, and the way he always sneezed three times in a row. Neil hadn’t known what it was like, to have the warmth of someone’s knowledge like that.

He liked it.

 

* * *

 

The snow was finally beginning to lighten. Neil could see sunlight through the flurries. He was itching to go outside. He hadn’t been so long without running in years.

Andrew seemingly finally got tired of his pacing and turned away from his laptop. “Quit it. You’re being annoying. If you want to go outside, then go outside.”

“It’s still snowing.”

“I’m not saying you should run a marathon. Just go out in the yard.”

“Come with me,” Neil said impulsively.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Are you incapable of going outside by yourself?”

“Come onnnnn, Andrew,” Neil wheedled. “Aren’t you tired of being cooped up in here?”

“I’m tired of you.” Despite his words, though, Andrew shut his laptop and got up. Neil grinned, and raced for his coat.

They headed outside into the blinding sunlight, and Neil took in an exhilarating breath as the freezing air punched through his lungs. Neil was just in a thin coat, but the cold and the fresh air felt good, at least for now. Andrew was bundled up in a thick coat, hat, and gloves. Neil had to suppress a smile at the sight. He looked like a grumpy blond marshmallow.

Neil lost patience at standing still and forged forward off the covered porch and into the drifts. The snow was almost to his waist in places, and quickly soaked through his pants. “Cold!” he yelped, laughing.

“Snow generally is,” Andrew said, staying firmly where he was on the porch.

“Come on Andrew!” Neil called, and then flopped down onto the snow. He sunk in a good foot, and then rolled over onto his back, laughing. “Come in, the water’s fine!” He started doing a snow angel.

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew said, but Neil heard a _whumph_ and looked to see Andrew laying on his back in the snow next to him, looking at him. Neil smiled at him, and then closed his eyes and turned his face up into the sun, just enjoying being outside for the first time in days.

Finally, Andrew said, “I’m cold.”

Neil laughed. The snow had well and truly soaked through his pants, and he was beginning to shiver. “Yeah. Let’s go outside.”

They struggled up out of the snow and back onto the front porch. Neil paused, though, before heading outside. He faced back out at the woods and took in one last view. It was beautiful.

“Neil?”

“Hmm?” Neil dragged his eyes away from the falling snow, and smiled over at Andrew. Andrew was staring at him with this weird look on his face. He was a lot closer than Neil had expected. For some reason, though, Neil wasn’t uncomfortable. “Andrew?” he asked. His voice came out hushed, to match the still in the air.

Telegraphing his moves, Andrew slowly reached up to cup the back of Neil’s neck. Andrew had taken his gloves off and his hand felt warm against Neil’s neck. Neil shivered, and his eyes closed involuntarily in a slow blink. Neil didn’t know what was going on. He’d never felt like this before. His stomach felt all weird and shivery, and his heart was racing, but he wasn’t afraid. “Andrew?” he asked again.

“Yes or no?” Andrew murmured. His face was even closer than before. Neil could feel his warm breath on his face.

He had a better idea of what was going on, now. He had never cared about this sort of thing before, but he knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he wanted. “Yes.”

Neil closed his eyes as Andrew’s lips touched his own.

The kiss was rough, at first. Andrew’s mouth pressed against Neil’s almost violently. Rather than shying away, however, Neil felt himself give, pliant, and Andrew gentled against him. Andrew’s hand had moved from cupping the back of his neck to just barely touching his jaw, fingertips stars of warmth against the cool air. Neil was careful not to touch Andrew. He just opened his mouth to Andrew’s and did his best to kiss back.

Neil felt shivery down to his bones, but he didn’t think it was because of the weather.

After what felt like an eternity, Andrew pulled back. Neil opened his eyes. His pulse was racing so hard he could feel it, and his hands were sweaty, but that all felt far away.

“Andrew?” he breathed. He had to blink hard a few times to dislodge the snow that had accumulated in his lashes. Andrew was covered in snow as well. It didn’t show up much in his blond hair, but it looked stark against the shoulders of his dark coat. Andrew’s expression … his face was as still as always, but there was something soft in his eyes.  Neil had never seen him look like that before.

“Let’s go inside, runaway,” Andrew said.

“Yeah,” Neil answered, and followed him in.

 

* * *

 

Outside, the snow stopped falling.

 

* * *

 

Neil hadn’t felt this happy in a long, long time.

Andrew clearly wasn’t comfortable touching him too much, but Neil was curled up on one corner of the couch in front of the fireplace, with his toes tucked just under Andrew’s legs, for warmth. King was purring on Neil’s chest, and Sir was in Andrew’s lap. Andrew’s voice was a steady metronome as he read aloud from _Anna Karenina_ and turned pages periodically. Neil rested his cheek on the side of the couch and just watched Andrew.  He looked golden in the firelight.

Andrew looked over and glared at him. “Staring,” he said.

Neil wiggled his toes under Andrew’s leg happily. “Yep.”

“You want something, runaway?”

“Mmm.” Neil pretended to think about it. “Kiss me again?”

Andrew was trying to look annoyed, but Neil spotted the pink on the tip of his ears. “Junkie,” Andrew accused. Neil just smiled.

Andrew stuck his finger in between the pages of his book, leaned over, and kissed him.

Andrew clearly meant for it to be quick, but Neil couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open in a moan.  At that, Andrew deepened the kiss and licked into Neil’s mouth. Neil welcomed him in. His head fell back, and then the rest of his body as Andrew pushed forward. Soon, Andrew was hovering over Neil on the couch, careful not to touch him except for where their mouths connected.

Andrew pulled away reluctantly, letting a bite on Neil’s bottom lip linger when Neil let out a disappointed noise.

“Greedy,” Andrew said somewhat breathlessly. Well. Neil refused to apologize for that. He leaned forward to kiss Andrew’s neck but briefly paused before his lips touched skin. “Yes or no?”

Andrew let out a frustrated sound and then said, “Yes.”

Neil gently dropped a kiss on Andrew’s neck just under his jaw, careful not to bite. He trailed kisses down Andrew’s neck to his collarbone. Andrew let out a tiny gasp of breath, and then shivered. Neil smirked into his neck.

Andrew roughly shoved him away. “Enough, junkie.”

Neil grinned. “You like it.”

“I hate you.”

 

* * *

 

The moon shone bright through the window, and Neil couldn’t sleep.

As quietly as he could, he got out of bed and walked over to the window. The forest outside looked eerie in its black-and-white palette. The snow had definitely stopped, and soon the roads would be cleared and plowed.

Neil couldn’t stay here any longer.

If he was smart, he’d pack up and leave right now, before Andrew woke up. Make it easier on both of them. He turned and looked at Andrew. He could just see the top of his head peeking out over the top of the covers. They were sharing the bed for the first time. All of the nights before, Andrew had slept on the couch. Tonight, though, he had said “Yes or no?” and they had slept on opposite sides of the bed, not touching but curled toward each other like parentheses. Andrew’s hair shone white in the moonlight.

He couldn’t do it. His mother would kill him himself if she could see him now, but he was weak, and selfish, and he wanted this one last night.

He slid back under the covers, eyes on Andrew’s sleeping face. He didn’t sleep all night.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Neil tried to act normal, but he knew he was failing miserably. Andrew was too observant to not know that something was wrong. He watched Neil sharply.

“Out with it,” Andrew finally lost patience as they were doing the breakfast dishes. “What is it?”

Neil stared unseeingly at the sudsy plate in his hand. “Andrew …” Neil lost his courage. “Can we go outside?”

Andrew paused, but didn’t force him to continue. “Fine. Leave the dishes. Let’s get this over with.”  Neil looked miserably at the stiff line of his back as he turned away.

They bundled up in silence and headed outside, mood infinitely different than it was yesterday.

It had only been a day since everything changed. Neil could hardly believe it.

They stood together in silence, facing away from the cabin and toward the tree line. Neil finally turned to Andrew.  “You were amazing,” Neil told him, breath shaking in his chest.

Andrew looked at him. “Don’t do this.”

“Andrew,” he said weakly. “I have to go.”

“I’ll make you a deal. You stay, and I protect you from your father and his people. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

It was so, so tempting. He had never wanted this strongly to stay anywhere before. But even though he trusted Andrew, his father … If his father managed to get to him despite Andrew’s promise, he knew Andrew. He would never forgive himself. And worse, if his father tried to take him and Andrew got in the way—

Neil forced himself to smile, eyes bright and voice shaking. “I’ll make you a different deal, instead. I come back as soon as I can. And you hold my place in the book for me.”

Andrew looked at him, and Neil could see in his eyes that he knew Neil was probably saying goodbye. He glared, but not before Neil could see the vast hurt in his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Neil’s smile was still tremulous, but became slightly more real. “I know.”

Andrew suddenly moved forward, grasping Neil by the back of the neck. “Yes or no?”

Neil’s eyes fluttered closed. “Yes.”

The kiss was deep, devouring. It was as good as the first. Neil wished that he would get the opportunity to see if all of Andrew’s kisses were like this.

He pulled back, determined not to cry. “Goodbye, Andrew.”

Andrew sucked in a breath like he was going to speak, then shook his head sharply and headed inside. Neil drank in the sight of his back greedily. Even if he died tonight, he would always have this.

Andrew didn’t look back. When the door shut, Neil turned and headed into the forest.

 

* * *

 

Neil made it almost two miles before they caught him.  A black SUV that looked like it could trek off road through the jungle, much less a little snow, pulled up behind him as he trudged along the road.  Neil looked frantically left, then right, at the forest on either side, but a voice stopped him.

“Go ahead, run, Nathaniel. We’ll shoot you before you make the trees, and don’t even think that that will get you out of meeting dear old daddy.  Romero is an excellent shot.  The only thing that’ll get you is an extra hole, and trust me, you’re gonna have a lot where that came from.”

Neil sucked in a ragged, shuddery breath, and then deliberately relaxed his shoulders and turned.  “Good thing Romero came with you. God knows you could never hit the broad side of a barn, Lola.”

“Aww,” the woman cooed through the open passenger-side window. “You remember me. You know I always was more of a knife person.”

“Yeah, I remember, you sadistic bitch.”

Lola grinned. “Oh, Nathaniel. We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

Romero cut the engine, and he and Lola climbed out of the SUV.  They practically dragged Neil toward the car, even though he knew better than to resist much. It would just get Lola off. They shoved him into the back seat.

He took in one last glance at the snow-colored forest outside before Lola climbed in after him and Romero shut the door.  He actually kind of liked winter, after all.  He was going to miss it.

The ride was long, and painful. Neil tried to detach himself for most of it and shield himself from the present with remembering Andrew and the cats and the warm, cozy, snow-covered cabin. As horrible as the drive was, however, it was over too soon.

Hours later, Lola and Romero dragged him out of the car and shoved him toward his childhood home. Neil thought he was brave enough for this, but his nerves were beginning to fail him and his feet uselessly pushed against the ground as they dragged him in. His pulse beat high in his throat.

Lola laughed cruelly as she looked at him. “Did you really think you could escape this, Junior? As soon as your bitch of a mother took you, it was coming to this.”

Neil opened his mouth to respond, but the creak of the door opening as they came up the path stole the words out of his throat.

His father was at the door.

Neil closed his eyes, just briefly, stealing one last moment to remember the sound of Andrew’s calm voice over the crackle of the fire.

“Hello, Junior.”

* * *

 

Light fell on him from above as the basement door cracked open.

“What—?” his father snarled, cleaver in hand. The crack of a gunshot cut him off, and Lola crumpled to the ground. Neil instinctively rolled and covered his head as gunfire rang out above him.  It barely lasted a minute before everything fell silent.

Neil opened his eyes cautiously, still on his side.  Face to face with him was his father, lying in a pool of blood and half his face blown off.  Neil felt the hysterical urge to burst into laughter.  He didn’t look like his father now, that’s for sure.

“Get up, kid.”

Neil slowly, achingly rolled over enough that he could peer up at the man talking to him. He was slight, with a runner’s build like Neil, and his dark hair was slowly salting with gray. He had a British accent and Mary’s eyes. Neil slowly dragged his way into a seated position. “Uncle Stuart?”

“Yeah, that’s me. That bastard really did a number on you, huh?”

Neil just looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve been lining up all the loose ends to take the bastard out since before he got out of prison. Lucky for you we managed to catch up with him now.” Stuart Hatford didn’t look sympathetic, but he wasn’t unkind either. “C’mon, Nathanial, it’s time to come with us. Mary should have called us years ago, but we’ll keep you safe now.”

Neil’s heart juddered. “Back to England?”

“Of course. Remnants of your father’s operation will be attempting to claw their way to the top for some time to come, but you’ll be safe there.”

“I can’t.”

“What?”

Neil hadn’t even said that on purpose, but he meant it. “I can’t come with you. I have someone I need to go back to.”

“Forget about whoever they are. Staying alive is more important, and with your father gone you’ll be a prime target. Didn’t your mother tell you to always keep running?”

Neil could feel his mouth set into the stubborn slant that Andrew always professed to find annoying. “I made a promise.”

Stuart looked down at Neil for a long moment, considering. “You’re not very like your mother after all, are you?”

Neil didn’t bother with a response. He just looked at Stuart steadily. After a moment, Stuart continued. “Alright, kid. We’ll fix you up as best we can, then drop you off wherever you need to go. I think you’re making a mistake, but it’s your life.”

Neil felt himself sag with relief, and he swayed at the sudden release of tension. _Andrew. He was going back to Andrew._ “Thank you,” he gritted out, voice suddenly hoarse.

“Don’t thank me yet, kid. This is going to hurt like a bitch.”

“What—” Neil cut off with a burst of agony as Stuart reached down and hauled him up and over his shoulder. “Annie!” he shouted to someone. “We need a medic!”

Neil would have protested being hauled around like a sack of potatoes, but blessedly he passed out.

 

* * *

 

At sunset, Neil found himself standing on Andrew’s porch once more. He had honestly never really expected to be here again. There were still imprints in the snow from where they had made snow angels. Barely any time had passed at all, but Neil’s whole life was changed. Andrew kissed him. His father was dead. It was surreal.

For some reason, he felt kind of nervous, but he took a deep breath of the biting air and knocked on the door. Almost immediately, the door was flung open.

Andrew stood in the doorway, braced for a fight and holding a knife, but the snarl immediately dropped when he saw Neil’s face. “You didn’t read ahead without me, right?” Neil said, doing his best to smile. Andrew never really showed expressions, but his eyes widened just slightly and he sucked in a ragged breath. “Idiot,” he said, dropping his knife to the ground and pulling Neil in by the collar. Neil couldn’t hide his wince, but he sagged into Andrew as his knees turned to water and he suddenly lost all strength to stand. Andrew would catch him.

Andrew caught him by both arms and then immediately froze, eyes scanning Neil head to foot and clearly cataloguing his injuries. Instead of shocked or pitying like Neil thought people would normally react, his eyes were fierce.

His hands were gentle, though, as he peeled back the bandage on Neil’s cheek to reveal the knife slashes underneath. He didn’t say anything; just looked at them for a long moment, memorizing.

“I’m fine, Andrew, really,” Neil said, smiling weakly.

“Shut up. Never say that again.” Andrew’s mouth was flat and hard. “Who did this to you? Give me names.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Neil slowly brought his injured hands up and gently rested them on Andrew’s. He closed his eyes, smiling and savoring the words. “They’re dead. My uncle killed them.”

“Your uncle? Do I have to worry about him?”

“No. He went back to England. I’m on my own. I still have to worry about the remnants of my father’s gang wanting revenge, but I’m free.” Neil couldn’t help but grin.

“Free, huh?” Andrew let go of his arm with one hand and wrapped it around the back of his neck. “What is Neil Josten going to do with his newfound freedom?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Neil said with a long, slow blink of his eyelashes and a smirk. “Know anyone who’s got a place to stay and needs a cook?”

“Such a fucking smart mouth.”

Neil grinned. “You love it.”

Andrew didn’t dispute it. He pulled Neil in.

Their kiss this time wasn’t fierce or tinged with desperation. It was gentle and affirming and _happy._ Neil couldn’t keep the curve of his smile from getting in the way of pressing their mouths together, but that didn’t stop them from trying again and again.

Finally, Andrew pulled back. “I guess you better come in.” Neil blinked, still lost in the haze of the kiss, and Andrew smirked. He pointed up at the sky. “Haven’t you heard? We’re getting another blizzard. You’re about to be snowed in.” Neil couldn’t help but laugh, and then kissed Andrew again.

Snow began to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://cubetoasty.tumblr.com/), blah blah blah.


End file.
